


Dreaming in the Ashes

by HaziestShade



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Edelgard wants to elope with Byleth, F!Byleth, F/F, F/M, POV Multiple, Politics, Slow Burn, arundel being a creep, i just watched Mulan and
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaziestShade/pseuds/HaziestShade
Summary: Edelgard has spent years making plans to achieve her dream.Those plans did not include an arranged marriage to Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddydor finding a savior in enigmatic mercenary, Byleth Eisner.Yet the best-laid plans of Empresses and men often go awry.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 33
Kudos: 116





	1. The Carnation Bride

“You want me to marry?” Horror swept through her, a terrible cold filling her veins.  


“You sound so dour, dear niece,” Arundel smiled cooly at her. “Do not forget that this is a day of celebration.”

“What about our plans, unifying Fodlan?” Her voice was weak and she cursed herself for it.

Arundel laughed dryly. “Do you think you are the only one who can unify Fodlan? To wed you to the Faerghus princeling saves us the trouble of a tiresome siege.”

Edelgard’s hands clenched into fists and she choked down a furious scream. Arundel scowled, his eyes frigid. “Do remember to smile niece, recall that you are our weapon and nothing more. If disobedience is the route you choose then we may find it necessary to replace you.”

He put a firm hand on her shoulder and his smile widened as she flinched. “You know, of course, what that replacement will entail don’t you?”

Edelgard forced a stiff nod. She would not let what happened to her happen ever again.

Arundel’s grip tightened on her shoulder as he leaned in close. “Now play your role and remember your place.” She winced at the feeling of his breath on her ear.

“I understand uncle.” She choked out.

She would’ve given anything to wipe the triumph off his face, instead, she remained still. “Excellent.” He snapped his fingers and a pretty blonde maid appeared. 

“Prepare her.” He ordered with a dismissive flick of his hand.

Edelgard seethed as the blonde gripped her tight by the arm. “Come along, princess. We don’t want to be late!” She chirped.

Reluctantly she allowed herself to be led away, cursing the bastard who replaced her uncle, Von Aegir, and the rest of the treacherous monsters who allowed it to happen.

The maid kept up a steady stream of cheerful asides as they walked though her grip remained painfully tight. 

The maid slowed outside the washroom. “Remember to behave yourself, princess, we’ll be watching.” The maid said with a wink. She grinned and gave the door a sharp rap before Edelgard could respond. 

A minute later she found herself pulled into a steamy washroom and deprived of her clothes. She barely had time to breathe before being pushed into the large marble pool in the center of the room.

Edelgard wanted to scream and claw like she had in the dungeons but Arundel’s words still echoed in her ears. Instead, she remained still in the hot water and tried to avoid the sight of the scars which marred nearly every inch of her skin.

Faceless maids pulled and combed at her hair rinsing it with saccharine scented perfumes and scoured her of nonexistent dirt. She was pulled out as the water-cooled and patted dry with floral-scented towels. 

The maids chattered to each other but the words were gibberish to Edelgard. Anxiety rose tide like within her and she wished dearly for an ax, a sword, anything to defend herself with.

As soon as she was dry she was set in front of a silver full-length mirror. She averted her eyes, staring down at the marble tile instead of her own, monstrous form. 

One of the maids, a wispy brunette asked in a whisper how she’d become so scarred. 

“Cursed.” An older maid had responded. Edelgard laughed bitterly. That’s what all the staff said, a curse had stricken the Hresvelg children, had stolen their lives one after another. Those ones avoided her, looked at her with equal parts fear and curiosity. But some of the staff knew better, the ones who had prepared meals for eleven shackled children, the ones who heard the rattling in the basement. Those looked at her with sympathy and something like horror.

Hurriedly but precisely her hair was brushed, bound, and twisted into pale upswept buns.

Then came roses woven into her hair like a garland of thorns. She remained still even as her scalp was pricked and her hair yanked. The pain was nothing compared to what had come before.

Finally, she was forced into a heavy crimson gown. It was a hideous thing, folds of satin and damask that pooled limply on the floor and rose to her throat with a lace collar. The maids were careful with the row of buttons which went up her back and the cloak, pinned to her shoulders. By the time they were done, she felt suffocated in fabric. 

_ I’m helpless in this thing. Too heavy to dodge, too tight to swing.  _ That must’ve been intentional.  _ At least this wretched thing covers all of me. _ She took small solace in that.

“Well?” 

“What do you think?” One of them asked her. Slowly she raised her eyes to the mirror. They’d generously applied makeup, her cheeks blushed shyly and her lips were painted the same crimson as her gown; yet her face was vacant, her eyes dull. 

“I look like a doll.” She said flatly.  _ Dressed up and ready to be used.  _

“Thank you Princess!” One of them responded.

The other brushed a stray lock of her hair back into place. “The prince will love you.”

She nodded stiffly, her scalp tingled and she felt uncomfortably hot.

“Will one of you fetch my retainer? I have...last-minute preparations to make.” She lied. 

One of them nodded. “L..Lord Hubert you mean?” She asked timidly. 

Edelgard nodded again, forcefully this time. No matter the machinations of Those that Slithered she was still a princess.

The maid scurried out as Edelgard was led back to her own room. She dismissed the other two over their protestations. As they unwillingly left the room she slumped onto her bed. At last alone.

Her mind whirred with all that had happened, they’d been utterly blindsided. She’d been told that it was Ferdinand Von Aegir who would be wed.  _ That was how they got away with making the preparations. Those bastards kept this secret well.  _

Hubert’s father had tipped him off that she would be sent to the officer’s academy and Hubert had confirmed the tale with several other lords, he had given them false information of course.

The door opened and Edelgard rose before seeing it was Hubert. She sat back down. There was no need for pretension around Hubert. “My lady,” he said, his voice stricken. He looked paler than he normally did, distress clear in his eyes.

“Hubert.” She said, unable to keep the desperation from her voice.

“I am...I am so sorry. I should’ve foreseen this, I should’ve…” 

Edelgard shook her head. “Stop. We were both fooled by them. Von Aegir and Arundel must’ve…” She sighed. “They keep their secrets well.”

Hubert’s face was desolate. “It is my job to know their secrets Lady Edelgard. I went through my father’s study, found a letter confirming your admission to the officer’s academy.”

“They wanted to keep us from the truth,” Edelgard said ruefully. 

_ He’ll blame himself for this forever, as he did with the experiments. _

“Hubert. It isn’t your fault, please, don’t blame yourself for this. The fault is Arundel’s and Von Aegir’s, primarily.”

Hubert’s mouth was a straight line, she knew that was his “I’m going to languish in guilt regardless look.” She would deal with that later.

“Hubert. Have you been able to find out any information about…” She paused, the word bitter in her mouth. “About the wedding?”

He nodded and bowed. “Of course. Arundel approached Rufus Blaiddyd at least a month ago with the offer...the offer of your hand in marriage to Prince Dimitri Blaiddyd. It seems the regent has agreed.” He said darkly.

Edelgard put a hand to her hair, her head low, careful not to disturb the arrangement. “Goddess.” She said exhausted. 

“Lady Edelgard.” Hubert sounded as lost as she felt.

“We must go through with this. You know what they’ll do if we don’t.” 

Hubert nodded shallowly. “I am aware.”

“But.” She raised her head. “Do not think I am going to accept this. I will not let this be my end, I will fulfill my dream no matter the cost”

Hubert gave her a grim smile. “I hoped you would say that Lady Edelgard.”

* * *

_ Edelgard... _ He had known her once. A long time ago, a lifetime ago it felt like. He wondered what she would be like. If life had warped her as it had him.

“Your highness?” Dedue’s voice broke him from his thoughts.

“Yes?” He turned to face his retainer. 

“You seem...troubled.” He noted solemnly. 

Dimitri sighed deeply. “It’s that noticeable?”

“You can always confide in me, Your Highness.”

His fists clenched and unclenched. His uncle Rufus had insisted in putting him in an extravagant suit, silk cravats and all. Sylvan had laughed for nearly an hour straight. He tugged impotently at the collar, already beginning to sweat. Adrestia was warmer than the Kingdom even in the early spring.

“I am troubled of course. I knew I would be expected to marry of course. I just never thought it would be so soon or...to her.” 

Surprise flickered in Dedue’s eyes. “You know her, your highness?” 

Dimitri nodded. “Only for a brief while, when we were both very young.” He shifted uncomfortably. He felt naked without armor or blade.

“I wonder what she thinks about all this. I suppose she must’ve agreed yet…” He thought of El, stern and bossy and surprisingly sweet. Even with all his nervousness, he felt a twinge of excitement at their reunion.

He could almost hear Glenn in his mind, the echo of his laughter. “Your highness, you look like you're marching to battle, not to your wedding.” He’d say. 

“I wonder what my father would say about all this?” He said mournfully. The phantoms which stalked him had been silent, only staring at him balefully. Their eyes piercing him like javelins.

Dedue opened his mouth to respond when the door opened. His uncle greeted him with a clap on the shoulder. Dimitri repressed a scowl. Rufus was utterly unlike his father had been. He was paunchy where Lambert was muscled, his long blonde hair bald on the top where Lambert's had been mane-like, he was boisterous where Lambert had been dignified.

“Are you ready, Dimitri, my boy?” He asked loudly. 

Dimitri nodded gravely as his uncle chucked. “Don’t look so dour my boy, she’s only a woman, not a demon.” 

“Of course uncle.” He said stonily. 

His uncle blathered on about nothing as they walked through the palace of Enbarr, Dedue trailing silently behind. 

The palace was lavish with great marble pillars and latticed arches, the walls ornamented with jeweled mosaics and vibrant tapestries. He knew Faerghus was more austere than Adrestia but the palace vividly illustrated their relative poverty.

“Are you listening to me, boy?” His uncle asked. 

“Yes uncle.” He lied. 

“I was just saying your bride has a certain reputation, the Hresvelg curse and all that.”

Dimitri nearly scoffed. He knew of the demise of the Hresvelg children, of course. But whatever tragedy had befallen them was more likely to have come from men than gods.

“I know uncle. I’ll be sensitive about it.” 

Rufus chuckled mockingly. “Sensitive, eh? You’re so much like Lambert, chivalrous to a fault.” 

Dimitri’s head began to ache.  _ Even a bride can’t stop me from seeking revenge for him, Uncle. I can’t rest until father can. _

At last they came to a pair of gilded double doors, guarded by two heavily armored soldiers. 

Slowly they pulled open one of the massive doors and Rufus gave him a slight push forward. “Just head to the altar, she’ll meet you there.”

He took a deep breath and spared a nervous glance at Dedue before venturing into the throne room. 

The room was as large as any he had ever been in, and it was packed wall to wall with nobles and priests all of them staring at him. He walked up the crimson carpet to the elevated throne at the back of the room aware of every eye on him. 

At the throne, an elderly priest in rich robes gave him a gentle smile.

Stomach writhing with nerves he tried not to quail under the gaze of the empire he waited for Edelgard to appear. 

At last, she did. She was beautiful as he remembered, pretty violet eyes and a delicate face that masked her fiery temperament. 

Yet something was wrong with the picture. It took him a minute to notice as she walked up the aisle her arm locked with her father’s.  _ Her hair... _ He swore that it had been brown when they had first met. 

It was puzzling but he supposed he would have time to ask later. They would have nothing  _ but  _ time later.

Slowly she ascended to stand beside him. She wore a small smile but her eyes were hooded. 

The priest gestured at the two of them. “Oh, Goddess above, Sothis of the sea star, Mother of us all, please bless the union of this man and women, let it be fruitful, gentle, and true, allow them to be constant as the seasons…”

The priest’s voice faded out as his head throbbed. Edelgard’s eyes were fixed on the floor, her hands clasped around the ceremonial ring. 

_ “Dimitri,” “my lord” “My son.” “My friend.”  _ The voices called out to him in grim whispers.  _ “Kill them all.” “rip their eyes from their skulls” “Drain their blood”  _ The voices urged. Edelgard raised her gaze to him, her eyes foreign and familiar all at once.

“Love is the Goddess’ most precious gift to her children, and it is time now for you to bestow it upon each other.” The priest finished.

Dimitri knew what he was supposed to do. He took her gloved hand gently and placed a golden ring  _ (his mother’s ring)  _ onto her finger. She accepted it expressionlessly and put a slender silver ring onto his.

“Now, by the will of the Goddess thou art bonded unto death.” the priest finished.

The voices left him, leaving him alone looking into the eyes of a stranger.


	2. Blood Watered Rose

After the ceremony was the feast. The Adrestian Empire spared their guests no luxury, it seemed. Four grand tables had been erected for the celebration. One table carried tarts, pastries, and pies of all sorts, the next countless varieties of fish, the other roasts, steaks, and offal. The fourth fruits from all across the world, all fresh and ripe.

Yet even with the generous spread before him, he couldn’t eat. He had graciously accepted a prime cut of Albinean moose but the rich meat may as well have been ashes in his mouth. Food had not had savor for him since...he spared a look at Dedue who stood unmoving behind his chair. 

His bride was in a similar position it seemed. Edelgard picked at a peach tart, taking only a few small bites and making small talk with the plump noble next to her. Ludwig Von Aegir, the prime minister of the empire. He had attempted to keep track of it only to lose interest in their stiff asides.

He resisted the urge to leave and find some air. He had little use for feasts and he had only trepidation for what came after. Dancing. He had been taught by the same woman he was now married to.  _ Goddess, I’m married.  _ The idea was still strange to him. Marriage. The word tasted bitter in his mouth and he knew, as the voices had told him, that marriage was unsuited for a creature like him.

_ What have you done uncle?  _ He rued bitterly. A wife was a liability for him, his vengeance had to take priority over his life and his wife...Edelgard, wouldn’t be able to understand that. No one who hadn’t experienced Duscar could. 

“Aren’t you going to dance, your Highness?” Von Aegir asked, taking a deep sip of wine.

Dimitri shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m rather graceless, Minister Von Aegir.”

“Nonsense!” He brayed. “The princess must desire a dance at least, all new brides do.” Edelgard looked up from her plate giving him a stare cold enough to freeze Ailell, yet Von Aegir merely scoffed. 

“If it pleases your Majesty my son may dance in your stead.” He said, his tone sharp. “Ferdinand is quite an able dancer.” Dimitri flexed his hand beneath the table. Something about the man set his teeth on edge.

Edelgard’s fork scraped across the plate. “I can arrange my own partners Minister Aegir.” She said icily.

Von Aegir looked at Edelgard with narrow piggy eyes. “Of course princess. I recall your dear sister Agnes was as...selective of her partners. She was quite the dancer, wasn’t she?” Edelgard’s fork screeched on the plate and her face had frozen. Dimitri gave her a look of concern, he knew of Edelgard’s sibling’s deaths but all else was a mystery to him.

Von Aegir smiled smarmily. “You know about the tragedy of the Hresvelgs, don’t you, your majesty?” 

Dimitri shook his head. Edelgard’s fork clattered to the table. “You’ve said enough Aegir. Stop now before you say something you’ll regret.” Her words were calm and deliberate yet Dimitri could feel the force behind them.

“Why, Princess I was only-” The minister’s smile curdled at the arrival of Edelgard’s retainer. Dimitri couldn’t help but stare at him. It was strange for a girl like Edelgard to keep such a grim character. Even at the feast, the man’s gaunt shadow cast a pall over the table and the talk hushed slightly around him. 

_ His eyes are cold.  _ Dimitri noticed. He had seen the same eyes on spies and bandits, the one that had seen the darkness and embraced it like an old friend.  _ Eyes like your’s.  _ Glenn whispered.

“Would you care for a dance, my lady?” The retainer asked. 

“Of course, Hubert.” She accepted his hand gracefully ignoring the murmurs of the table. The pair walked hand in hand to the dance floor set up beyond the tables.

Von Aegir scowled darkly. “Always a willful one. One would think she would take into account her ah…posistion before spurning potential allies.” Von Aegir muttered bitterly.

“It’s only dancing, Minister.” Dimitri said.  _ Edelgard must be glad to leave these people behind.  _

Von Aegir gave him a dark look before forcing a jovial grin onto his face. “Of course your majesty, young girls can be so fickle, I ought to make allowances.” He took a sip of wine. “Though Lord Arundel might not be so forgiving.” 

Dimitri eyed him scornfully. “I’m going to ask Edelgard for a dance.” He lied. The crowd parted for him as he moved, and he swore he caught whispers about him as he walked. Dedue trailed silently behind him. He caught a glimpse of Edelgard and her retainer on the dance floor, wearing matching solemn expressions.

He left the hall and the dancers behind. He passed the two guards and pushed his way into an empty room, it was plush with crimson loveseats and an elegant wooden tea table. 

Dedue carefully shut the door behind him.

“Who is Lord Arundel?” Dedue asked gravely.

“Her uncle, I think.” Dimitri flexed his arms wishing dearly he was back in Faerghus’ training yard. He was full of energy with no way to burn it off.

“Hmm.” Dedue’s face twisted in thought.

“What is it?” He asked curiously.

Dedue shook his head. “Likely nothing, your Highness.” They passed a moment in silence. “It was Lord Arundel who led the insurrection, was it not, your highness?” He asked abruptly. 

Dimitri nodded ponderously. “I believe so, yes. Why?”

“What benefit would your marriage be to him?” Dedue said quietly.

Dimitri squinted confused. “Why-”

The door opened, revealing his Rufus. “Ah, my nephew. You cannot spend your own wedding feast alone.” He chastised. “It’s terribly rude, your Highness, now we ought to return to your bride at once.” His uncle’s face was flushed whether with indignation or wine he didn’t know.

Shamed, he followed his uncle from the room back to the feast hall. 

Rufus gave him an affectionate pat on the back. “There’s a good lad. Go have fun, have a dance, there's plenty of likely ladies in this crowd.” Rufus said pulling at his bushy mustache.

“It’s my wedding uncle.” Dimitri reminded him. Rufus chuckled. “Of course, of course, save it all for the wedding night, eh?” 

Dimitri scowled as Rufus stalked off with a noblewoman half his age.

_ Father was ten times the man he was.  _ He thought ruefully. He searched the room for Edelgard, and spied her talking to a dark-haired man in rich robes, the look on Edelgard’s face was tense and the man’s own was impassive. 

Dimitri returned to his seat taking a drink of the wine. It was too sweet for his taste but he choked it down regardless. To his relief Von Aegir had left his seat and struck up a conversation with a young man who looked to be his son.

Dimitri looked down at his full plate, the cold greasy meat making him feel slightly ill.  _ If father were here this would never have happened, Edelgard would have a real husband and not...me.  _ He pressed a hand to his head as the sounds of Duscar mingled with the soft music and chatter of the crowd. 

Dimitri looked up alarmed as the emperor approached the table. He couldn’t help but study the man, a ruler in his own right but so different from Lambert. Ionius made a rather pitiable figure, his rich robes failing to hide the gauntness of his frame and the haggard look on his face. He seemed strained even by the effort of standing yet he stood before Dimitri all the same.

“Might I have a word, your Highness?” He asked blandly.

Dimitri stood. “Of course Emperor.” The emperor gave him a shadow of a smile. “Please, follow me if you would.” He led Dimitri and Dedue from the feast hall, past the empty room, and countless more doors until he reached a pair of scarlet double doors. 

He opened them, exposing a marble balcony overlooking all of Enbarr.

The emperor stepped out, leaning hard on the railing.

“You wanted a word?” Dimitri reminded him, mildly.

The emperor raised his eyes to Dedue. “You trust him?” He asked.

“With my life.” Dimitri said without hesitation.

The emperor nodded slowly. “Very well.” 

He turned around looking down at the city and sighed deeply. “I once had eleven children, did you know that, your highness?” His voice was strained.

Dimitri gave a shallow nod. 

“I have only one now. My Edelgard, El.” The Empereror swallowed. “She was always so sweet, a kind girl..." He trailed off, pain clear on his face. "She is strong now, stronger than I ever was, strong as I should’ve been.” Scorn flashed across his face. “My El...I cannot give her power, or slay her enemies, though I wish dearly I could.”

Pity rose within Dimitri.  _ To be a man so without power, to be so weak.  _ He wanted to look away but the emperor's violet gaze seemed inescapable. “You must protect her, please, she is all I have left.”

_ To protect the innocent is the duty of all true knights and all true kings.  _

“Please.” The emperor beseeched.

Dimitri thought of El, brown-haired and bossy, he thought of Edelgard, pale-haired and strange. The decision was easy.

“You have my vow. I will protect Edelgard with my life.” He swore.

* * *

She still wasn’t used to Faerghus’ cold. Even in her heavy layers the chill seeped through and settled in her bones. She had tried to distract herself by looking out the window of the coach, watching the forests of fir and pine trees pass by.

The last time she had gone to Faerghus she had done the same, she’d been a child then, a different girl sitting on her uncle's lap. He had laughed and joked with her to pass the time, her current companion was more taciturn.

“Are you alright, Edelgard?” Dimitri said, breaking her from her thoughts. 

Edelgard looked up, inquisitive. “I’m fine.” She assured quietly. Dimitri stared at her as he had done often in the past two weeks. Edelgard couldn’t help but be disquieted at the familiarity of his gaze, the expectancy that lay within.

There was a knowledge there that she was missing entirely. Likely it lay in the void that was her past. 

“It’s only...you seem so solemn. Is something troubling you?” He asked gently.

Edelgard tensed.  _ Only the ruination of my plans, being forced into a marriage, and abandoning my home.  _ “I suppose I’m just nostalgic. I came to Faerghus once years ago.”

“During the Insurrection.” He murmured.

She nodded. “Yes, with my...uncle.”  _ What had been my uncle.  _

Dimitri smiled gently. “I hope Faerghus is just as you remember it.”

Edelgard gave him a taut smile. “Nothing is ever quite how we remember it.” She said.

Dimitri opened his mouth when she was flung forward, the carriage jolting to a stop.

Dimitri quickly forced himself up. “Are you unharmed?” He asked his face caught between concern and...fear. 

“I’m fine.” She said pushing herself up. “We should find out what’s happening.”

Dimitri shook his head. “You stay here, I’ll go and check.”

_ How chivalrous.  _ She opened the coach door dropping to the ground ignoring Dimitri’s protests.

“Lord Dimitri!” A soldier approached them, his hand outstretched. 

“Is something-” Dimitri began as an arrow pierced the soldier through the neck. Edelgard stumbled back. The soldier fell to the ground, limbs splayed like a ragdoll’s. 

She drew her dagger and hastily pulled a stunned Dimitri leftward as an arrow soared a foot from his head.

“El.” He choked out. Edelgard’s eyes widened.  _ How did he...no, not important now. _

“We’re being attacked, we need to join with your guard.” She said firmly. 

Soldiers came dashing out from the carriages behind them and men on horses galloped ahead of them. 

Edelgard searched the forested land for their attackers. 

“No need for that.” Dimitri said sternly, taking a spear from the downed soldier. Dimitri’s face had twisted somehow, a look of horror and...something she could not identify. 

“I’ll take care of this.” He ran forward before she could stop him, spear aloft.

“Dimitri!” She called after him. “Goddess damn him.” She muttered.

She turned as Hubert approached. “My lady, are you unharmed?” He asked breathlessly.

She nodded. “I’m fine, I’m fine, do you know who’s attacking?” She asked.

He took a relieved breath. “Bandits, so they say.” He raised his hand dark energy crackling in his palm. “Allow me to take care of them for you.”

Edelgard laughed breathlessly. “You can assist me, Hubert.” She moved forward dagger drawn, carefully weaving to avoid giving archers a free shot, Hubert following warily behind her.

In front of the carriage train, a chaotic melee unfolded, the clamor of steel on steel ringing in the cold morning air.

A stocky bandit turned to her and screamed as Hubert’s ball of darkness collided with his stomach leaving a charred hole.

Another crackling bolt hurtled towards a lanky red-haired bandit with a jutting forehead and a feral grin. The bandit leapt nimbly out of the way of the bolt and ran at Edelgard ax raised.

“Die, bitch!” He rasped bringing the ax down. The ax collided with air as Edelgard pivoted left, burying the dagger in his neck. He dropped with a wet gurgle and she quickly pulled the ax from his unwilling grip.

She noticed with a twinge of surprise that the ax was new, good steel, no rust, better than bandits should have. She resolved to think about it later.

She dashed into the fray, relieving a knight with a swing of her ax. It collided with a meaty thunk and she pulled it free not bothering to look. Ahead she saw Dimitri’s retainer, armor gleaming in the sun still fighting by the corpses of several other bandits.

A burly bandit with a crooked broken nose ran at her and she cut his legs from under him and leapt over him taking another in the back. 

She moved forward Hubert following close behind.

Over the clamor of swords and screams, she heard mad laughter. Familiar laughter. A chill swept through her.

At the head of the bandits was Dimitri like a storm of steel, almost artful in the way he ducked, weaved, and leapt, with every flash of steel a spray of crimson followed.

_ He’s laughing.  _ The sight filled her with disquiet yet she forged ahead, ducking a bandits sword and burying her ax in his stomach. 

Quickly freeing it and swiveling left her ax took off a bandits arm. Another swing silenced his screams. 

A familiar sickness curled in her throat.

She panted, her ax splitting a youthful blonde bandit’s skull, a crackling bolt from Hubert took a bandit to her right. Yet neither of them held a candle to Dimitri whose vicious jabs and preternatural swiftness seemed to have the bandits hanging back from him.

“There’s more!” Edelgard turned to see Hubert pointing at the thicket to the right where a legion of bandits spilled forth. 

Her eyes widened. “Get down!” She yanked Hubert to the ground with her as a volley of arrows struck the knights around them.

“There’s too many, my lady, we need to run!” Edelgard nodded. “Dimitri, come on!” She called to him.

Dimitri let out a barking laugh, his face spattered with gore. “I’ll kill them! I’ll kill all of them. I swear to the Goddess!" He raved, his eyes avid.  _ "I will kill them all!” _ He snarled.

Fear coiled serpent-like in her stomach. 

“Dimitri-” Her voice caught as Hubert pulled her forward, Dimitri running towards the bandits red dripping spear bared.

Together they followed the few knights who had survived. Far ahead was a thicket of woods where they could find shelter from the arrows.

A flurry of arrows split the air taking a knight in the back and another by the leg. She didn’t stop only checking to ensure Hubert’s presence beside her. She couldn’t perish here, not with her dream unfulfilled.

The woods beckoned ahead and she increased her speed still weaving as a soldier slightly ahead of her collapsed with an arrow piercing skull Finally she reached the woods Hubert following just behind her.

She gasped for breath, taking shelter behind a wide oak.

“You...you need....” Hubert panted. Horror coursed through her as she noticed the way he sagged against the tree. She looked down with trepidation, spying the arrow that jutted from his leg.

“You’re hurt.” She said, her voice tense with worry.

Hubert shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Edelgard narrowed her eyes. She could see the sweat dripping down his face, the twitch of his lips as he tried to hide the pain.

“Oh Goddess.” She murmered quietly.

“My lady…” Hubert panted.

A few other soldiers staggered into the woods, clutching at wounds and desperate for breath. 

“They’re coming.” His voice trembled slightly. She peered out from behind the tree seeing the bandits advance.

“There’s a least fifty of them.” She appraised their numbers quickly.

Hubert nodded grimly. “My lady, you need to go. Further, into the woods, look for help.” He said sternly.

Edelgard shook her head vehemently. “I’m not leaving you here Hubert.” 

“Your dream-” He started.

“I’m not going to let you die!” She snapped. She could not,  _ would not,  _ lose her last friend, the only person left who knew her.

She hefted her ax as the bandits approached, trying to empty herself of fear when she heard the sound of hoofbeats. Hubert’s eyes narrowed and she turned, her ax falling limp.

At the head charged a grizzled blonde man on a charger. “Hold!” he barked and a crowd of men halted behind him. 

“You’re not bandits.” One of the soldiers gasped.

The man smiled wryly. “We get paid to kill bandits. Edelgard stepped forward. “Sir, we can pay, the crown prince of Faerghus is ahead and in great danger, as are we, please-” She began, she hated to beg but she would do whatever it took to get herself and Hubert out alive.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I think I see your problem heading our way.” He sighed. “Pain in the...we’ll take care of it, but it’ll cost you.”

Edelgard nodded. “I understand sir…?”

The man nodded to her. “Jeralt.” 

She nearly gasped.  _ Jeralt the Blade Breaker?  _

With a nod of his head, the mercenaries charged forth, the bandits ahead rushing to meet them. 

“We’re saved!” One soldier cried. Another just sobbed.

Edelgard moved to Hubert. “Your leg...were you hit anywhere else?” She asked firmly.

Hubert shook his head, his eyes glazed with pain.

_ He needs his help. This must end quickly. _

“Hubert. I’m going to assist Jeralt. Stay. Here.” She commanded.

“My lady-” She was already sprinting before his objection reached her.

She entered the melee with a hard chop that sent a bandit flying backward, another swing and splash of red greeted her. 

She fought numbly, the bandits like puppets collapsing with cut strings red sawdust spilling from their groaning forms.

She spied a blue-haired woman against three bandits. Edelgard couldn't help but marvel at the woman's skill. She dodged and parried with masterful strokes and hummingbird swiftness. Edelgard took one of her bandits by the legs, her next swing met a bandit's sword but the woman stabbed him from the back.

Edelgard turned to see a hulking bandit lumbering towards her. She took a breath and met him with a heavy swing at his head. Surprisingly quick he brought his own ax up to parry, their axes met and she forced her weight against his. Recoil running up her arms. Jumping back she swung again, hitting air as he drew back. 

He swung quickly forcing her to throw herself right to dodge. 

“Noble bitch.” He spat at her. He raised his ax aiming for her skull. She rolled out of the way, leaving him bent over empty ground. With all her might she buried her ax in his back. He made a choked gasp and stammered “Yo..you.” Before going limp.

Edelgard took a breath, trying to dislodge her ax. Something stirred behind her and she turned to see a bandit barreling towards her sword already raised. 

She put up her arms uselessly, her eyes slamming shut. A loud clang rang through her ears. Her eyes shot open as the blue-haired woman forced the sword from the bandit’s grip and stabbed her own through his chest.

Daring a look at the rest of the field she saw the bandits retreating en masse from the horde of mercenaries.

The blue-haired woman turned to her.  _ Goddess. She’s beautiful.  _ She thought madly. The woman gave her a small strange smile. “Are you alright?” She asked, softly.

Edelgard stammered, her face warm. “I...I am...thank you.” She said gratefully. “You saved my life.

“I did.” The woman’s voice was filled with confusion. 

“Do you...may I ask your name?” She asked, still half breathless. 

The woman tilted her head and nodded blankly. “I’m Byleth.” 

_ Byleth.  _ She offered Byleth a bow. “I am Edelgard, princess of Adrestia and I am in your debt." She said. Despite the day's horrific events, she couldn't stop the smile that crept across her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is done! I have a lot of worries about this one, especially because I'm worried it's a little heavy on fight scenes  
> but uh. hopefully it's good. 
> 
> If you enjoy this chapter please let me know cause I love attention. If you don't like the chapter please let me know so I can improve.
> 
> Anyways look forward to more Edelgard/Byleth scenes and hopefully a retainer stare down between Dedue and Hubert. :)


	3. Alstroemeria

“Is mercenary work satisfying for you?” Edelgard asked, her eyes wandering from the forest trail to Byleth. 

The morning sun filtered through the treetops casting her in an almost seraphic glow. She gazed blankly at Edelgard, her eyes like twin sapphires.

“Satisfying?” She repeated, like the word itself was befuddling. 

“Do you enjoy it, I mean?” Edelgard explained. Byleth’s face crumpled in confusion and she was silent for a long moment. “I don’t...I don’t know.” She said. “No one’s ever asked me that.” 

Edelgard frowned. After three days on the road with Byleth, she had found more questions than answers, but that only piqued her curiosity all the more.

“Is there anything you  _ do  _ enjoy?” Edelgard inquired. Byleth seemed to face nearly every activity with the same placidity.

Byleth’s brow creased in thought. “I...I can't remember.” She said dazedly. “You ask such strange questions.” She said, staring at her with that strange glass-eyed stare. Edelgard’s face heated. 

“Ah...I didn’t mean to pry. You just interest me.” She confessed.

Byleth tilted her head. “Why?”

Edelgard frowned taken aback. “Because…” She thought of Byleth standing above her, her blue hair wild in the wind, and the warmth of her hand as she pulled Edelgard to her feet.

“You saved my life. You didn’t know who I was, that I will be empress, yet you saved me anyway.” Edelgard said quietly.

Byleth looked at her with wide eyes. “I...” She stammered. 

Edelgard smiled at her. “You saved me, Byleth.” She wanted to yet again take Byleth’s hand, to walk with her and talk with her free of prying eyes. 

“My lady.” Edelgard turned to see Dimitri ride up at a gallop. She felt a smile twinge of surprise at his presence. Since the ambush, he had been quiet and sullen, not that she could blame him. 

The image of him soaked in gore half carried by his retainer back to camp was not one she would forget soon.

“Your highness.” Edelgard acknowledged. He gave her a small smile yet the wide grin he had worn in the midst of battle still lingered in her mind. 

“It is an honor to have met your father.” Dimitri nodded to Byleth. “Even in Faerghus, there are stories of Jeralt the Blade Breaker.” 

Byleth’s face was pensive. “I never knew.” She said impassively. 

Dimitri laughed. “I suppose he must be humble.” 

“Perhaps.” Edelgard began. 

Dimitri turned to her curiously. “Perhaps?”

Edelgard shrugged. “Perhaps Sir Jeralt has further reasons to keep his identity quiet.” Byleth’s eyes met her own. “To leave the knights of Seiros...such a thing is not usually done.”  _ Not done without a reason anyways.  _ She would pay dearly to know what Jeralt’s reason was.

“I never knew about that either.” Byleth said quietly.  _ Sir Jeralt has many secrets so it seems.  _

“You never knew?” Dimitri asked incredulously. Byleth looked down, shaking her head slowly.

Edelgard gave Dimitri a reproving glare and his face immediately flushed. “My...my apologies, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry...I was just surprised, is all.” 

“It’s fine. It’s just strange, you know more about papa than I do.” She said, a note of...something in her usually flat voice.

They road the next hour in companionable silence until Hubert joined them on a black charger. Edelgard looked him over sternly. “You shouldn’t be riding Hubert, your injuries-”

“Have been seen to by the mercenary’s healer. I am fine, my lady.” Hubert said smoothly. 

Edelgard had severe doubts about Hubert’s standards for “fine”. But it was no good to argue with him, Hubert was stubborn as a wyvern when it came to her.

“Very well. But take it easy when we get to Faerghus.” She commanded.

Hubert chuckled. “Of course, my lady.” Both of them knew he wouldn’t but she could pretend at least.

They continued their ride, the forest shading them from the mid-noon sun and rustling softly in the wind. Edelgard couldn’t help but notice the dark glares Hubert insisted on shooting at the backs of Byleth and Dimitri.

They called a halt in the afternoon for a quick lunch before they pressed on. Edelgard took the opportunity to pull Hubert into the woods.

“What have you found about the regent?” Edelgard asked.

“Ah yes, Regent Rufus Blaidydd, duke of Itha. He was in line for the throne until unfortunately his younger brother Lambert manifested a crest. After that, he was set aside.”

“Of course.” She murmured.  _ It always comes back to crests, doesn't it? _

“I gather that Lambert and Rufus were not particularly close it is said, but there were no rumors of direct hostility. Not until Duscar.” Hubert continued.

“You are implying he...”

“Arranged for the assassination of his brother and nephew with the backing of several premiere noble families and the assistance of our own...allies.”

Edelgard shook her head numbly. “To massacre one’s own family just for the sake of power…that is…” Her words failed her.

Hubert shrugged dismissively. “That is the way of the nobility.” 

She thought of Duke Aegir and her sibling's slow lingering deaths in the darkness. “Yes. It is.”  _ That is why they must be destroyed, them, and the powers that allowed them to be. _

“This system rots those within it.” Edelgard said quietly. It was only around Hubert she could say such things.

“Some were rotten, to begin with.” Hubert murmured.

“And the already corrupted it empowers.” She replied. She sighed deeply. “Though I am powerless now, I must find a way to end this.” 

“If you cannot find a path than gladly I will cut one for you, Lady Edelgard.”

Edelgard felt a familiar twinge of warmth and regret at Hubert’s loyalty. He deserved an easier path, a better life than she could provide.

“So we can assume Rufus’ motive for arranging an ambush for Dimitri, but why the marriage? He would not benefit from my death.” She said thoughtfully.

Hubert hummed his assent. “Not Rufus himself, no. But the lords of the Empire on the other hand…”

Edelgard almost laughed. “As if Duke Aegir hasn’t taken enough from me, now he wants my life as well.” She said ruefully.

“He would rid himself of a potential danger and gain a chance of seating his  _ beloved  _ son on the throne. Of course, such a thing would perturb our allies but I suppose our bold Minister thought the benefits outweighed the consequences.” Hubert’s said, his tone dark.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Your demise would serve as a magnificent casus belli for a war with the Kingdom, a war our erstwhile duke  _ so  _ desires.”

“So that is the way of it.” Edelgard said bitterly. “They wanted a convenient excuse for war and to rid themselves of a willful puppet.” 

Hubert looked at her, concerned. “One day we will be rid of them, all of them.” He said firmly. “I will make sure of it.”

Edelgard smiled tartly. Her goal was not vengeance, it had never been, but for the debased nobility of the Kingdom and Empire to experience the same helplessness they had inflicted on so many others was a shameful dream she could not rid herself of.

“We ought to-” She began.

The snap of sticks and crunch of leaves forced her mouth shut, she turned warily toward the noise. 

“Oh, Byleth.” She uttered, relieved. She approached them, taking large bites out of a half eaten apple. Edelgard almost laughed at the offended look on Hubert’s face.

“Is there anything you need?” She asked.

Byleth swallowed hard. “Dimitri wants to speak to you.”

Edelgard pushed down the slight pang of disappointment that Byleth hadn’t come of her own free will. “Of course, I’ll see him now.” 

“Allow me to accompany you, Lady Edelgard.” 

Byleth paused in between bites. “He said alone.”

Hubert scoffed and strode toward her before Edelgard put up a hand. “It will be fine Hubert. I’ll go alone.”

“My lady-”

“I will go alone.” She cut off his argument before it could begin.

She returned to the camp with slight trepidation. As fond as she was of Byleth the mercenaries’ superior numbers unnerved her. Only twenty-three of their fifty knights had survived the assault. The bandits had been organized, informed of their numbers, and vicious. Jeralt seemed like an honorable man but if he were not, both she and Dimitri would be easy prey. 

Dimitri approached her warily. “Would you walk with me Lady Edelgard?” he asked courteously.

Edelgard smiled trying to put him at ease. “Of course.” She walked beside him into the woods, enjoying the light breeze and soft chittering of the birds. 

They walked a further way, pausing by a swollen stream. 

Dimitri gave her one his strange yearning looks. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

“You’ve done nothing requiring an apology,” Edelgard said honestly.

Dimitri shook his head. “I have to disagree, during the battle I...lost myself. It is...it is a great source of shame to me.”

Edelgard hesitated. She remembered the fury in Dimitri’s eyes as the bandits screamed, the wide grin that had replaced his usual mild smile. “You have no need to apologize for your...conduct.” The words came out stiff. “We were under attack, badly outnumbered, it’s fine-”

“It’s not fine!” He shouted, his hands clenched tight into fists and distress plain on his face. Edelgard fell silent, keeping a close eye on his movements. “It’s not fine.” He said quietly. His arms fell limp to his side and his expression faded into regret. 

“Your highness…” It was times like these she felt helpless, she had always been poor at offering comfort and she hated herself for not knowing the right gesture, the right words, to help him.

Dimitri’s face was stricken. “The attack...the blood...it was like I was back at Duscar, my closest friends, my family dying around me.” He looked down. “Sometimes it’s like I never left.”

Sympathy rushed through her. She knew how it was to lose those closest to you, to be helpless to save them. “I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “What happened at Duscar was horrific.”

Dimitri’s eyes were clasped shut and his fists trembled. “It all started...I was in the carriage with my...my stepmother, Patricia. She was kind, the kindest woman I ever knew.” He swallowed hard.  _ Patricia.  _ Something about the name was familiar.

“When the screaming started she grabbed me, tried to stop me from going out there. When our coach stopped, when you grabbed me, I felt her touch on me, heard her pleas. It was all…” He opened his eyes and slowly unclenched his fists. “It was all so familiar.”

Edelgard nodded slowly. “The past is difficult to leave behind.” She still awoke sometimes desperate for fresh air, still reaching out for her sister’s hand.

Dimitri gave her a sharp look. “I could never leave it behind not until…” He paused, a strange gleam in his eyes. “Not until I avenge them, I will never know peace until their spirits do.”

Curiosity lit within her. “Surely the punishment of Duscar sufficed?” She had heard the grizzly tale from Hubert, neither women nor children were spared the  _ righteous  _ wrath of the Faerghus knights.  _ Another blood-soaked sin to on the nobility’s ledger. _

_ “No!”  _ Dimitri practically growled. “No.” He repeated again, calmer. “The people of Duscar did not slay my father nor anyone else!” He said fiercely. 

Edelgard blinked.  _ So he is aware his father’s murderer goes unpunished, but how much does he know?  _ She wondered if he too suspected Rufus, or if looking to his only remaining family was too painful. 

“If not the people of Duscar than who-”

“I don’t know yet. But when I find the one responsible I swear on my father's grave I  _ will  _ mount their head on the gates of Fhiridad.”

* * *

Relief swept through him as Fhiridad came into sight. Traveling in Faerghus was a dangerous endeavor as the past week had proved. To see Edelgard and his remaining knights safe behind the gates would be a great comfort.

Ahead of him Edelgard chattered with the mercenary woman, the two seemed to have grown close during their journey. 

“Have you ever seen Fhiridad?” Edelgard asked, her curiosity plain in her voice. 

The mercenary shrugged. “I...maybe.” She stammered. “I’m not sure.” 

Edelgard laughed quietly. “That’s fine, Byleth. I hope I can make your time here memorable.” 

“I...I think I will remember this.” Byleth responded with a small smile. "Remember you, I mean." She explained.

Dimitri smiled as Edelgard blushed.  _ She has changed so much, when we were young it would've taken more than a gesture of friendship to make her blush.  _

“My lord.” Dimitri turned to Dedue. 

“Yes?” Dedue looked troubled, his face taut. His hand went to his sword if anyone else thought to assault his friends he would see them slaughtered to a man.

“It is about Lady Edelgard.” He said with his usual seriousness.

“Edelgard?” He asked, surprised.

Dedue nodded. “I do not trust her retainer. I have seen him display signs of malice towards your majesty.” 

Dimitri’s eyes wandered to the black-clad shadow at Edelgard’s side. He loomed over both Edelgard and Byleth like a gargoyle.

“He is a...curious figure I admit. But surely Edelgard would not keep a monster by her side.”

Dedue’s brow creased in thought. “Perhaps I am wrong. Until it is proven I will keep watch on him.” 

Dimitri sighed. “Very well.” Dedue galloped ahead with a serious nod. It was just paranoia most likely, Edelgard had given him no reason to mistrust her, after all.

He felt a weight lift from him as they rode through Fhiridad. The bustle of the crowds at market, children at play, the steady march of guardsmen, took him further from the clash of metal and the screams of Duscar.

Byleth looked at the crowds with wide eyes and Edelgard remained impassive if not a little amused. 

“You must see Enbarr sometime, Byleth. It is far larger and more ancient than Fhiridad.” She boasted.

Dimitri road beside her. “Fhiridad may not be the size of Enbarr but it’s spirit is unsurpassable.” He said lightly. He supposed he couldn’t blame her for being homesick, he always felt uneasy when he was long away from Fhiridad.

Edelgard smiled. “What we lack in spirit we make up for in conviction.” 

“Spirit? Do you mean...ghosts?” Byleth asked, perplexed.

Edelgard shook her head, smiling. “No, it’s more...more of a matter of culture. I suppose Faerghus might be more to your taste than Adrestia however,” she said troubled. “Strength is well respected here.” She nodded at Dimitri.

Pride rose within him. “Those with honor and strength have always thrived within Faerghus.” he said to Byleth. He had not seen Byleth in action but earning Edelgard’s respect was no easy feat. 

The castle gates opened with a shrill shriek and Dimitri nodded in greeting to the guardsmen.

“Of course strength comes secondary to crests,” Edelgard said quietly.

Dimitri hummed his agreement. “Crests are a necessity in Faerghus, it is true. It is their strength which protects the realm.” He explained to a confused looking Byleth.

“Is that so?” Edelgard asked, her voice strangely tense.

“Of course individual strength is not to be neglected but those with crests simply fill a different role than those without them.” 

They road to the stables and Dimitri dismounted, giving his horse a fond pat.

“I must speak to Sir Jeralt.” Edelgard said, gesturing in his direction.

“If it’s about payment, Faerghus will-” Dimitri began.

“It’s about business. I have a…proposition to discuss with him.” She said vaguely, turning and walking away her retainer at her heels.

“Your highness!” He turned to face Ingrid who’s face was torn between relief and panic.

“I’m so happy you’re safe, we heard what happened on the road!” She said breathlessly. 

Dimitri smiled hoping to calm her. “I’m fine, Ingrid. You need not worry about me.” His smile slipped from his face as he remembered the carnage, a knight with an ax buried in his skull, another weeping as he clutched at a spear in his stomach. “Others were not so lucky.” He said grimly.

Ingrid’s face was grave. “We heard. Sylvain is beside himself.”

“Sylvain?” Dimitri asked confused.

Ingrid’s eyebrows rose. “You mean you didn’t know?” She asked, surprised.

“Know what?” Dimitri demanded.

Ingrid’s stared at the ground. “The bandits who attacked you...they...they were led by Miklan.”

Dimitri grimaced. Sylvain had been his friend since he could walk and now...now he would kill his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alstroemeria, also known as Peruvian Lily symbolizes devotion and friendship in flower language, I thought it was fitting.
> 
> This chapter is a little more easy-going but I hope y'all enjoy it anyways. I had a hard time getting this one out, lol.  
> Next chapter look forward to more Edeleth interaction and some Dimitri/trio action. 
> 
> if y'all wanna have any feedback or recommendations please let me know


	4. Taking Root

“I’d like Byleth to remain in Fhiridad as my retainer.” She said truthfully. “Your daughter's strength and skill is unparalleled.” 

Jeralt looked at her warily. “Byleth is a valued part of my company, princess.”

Edelgard nodded. “I know you would be loath to leave her alone. Perhaps you could stay as well? I am certain that Faerghus could use a man of your strength and renown.”

Jeralt ran an oilcloth up and down his sword. “I’m more of a wandering type, Byleth is the same.” 

Desperation rose in her. “Sir Jeralt, Byleth could learn much from Faerghus, there is nowhere else with as many skilled knights and warriors.” Edelgard tried.

He shook his head, his eyes still on his sword. “I have to refuse, Byleth and I will be on the road by tonight.” 

Despair welled in her chest. For reasons she couldn’t name, the thought of losing Byleth  _ hurt.  _ To be left in Fhiridad with only Hubert was...Jeralt turned to her, his face softening slightly.

“I’m sorry princess. But I have to do what’s best for her.”

Edelgard nodded, crestfallen. The idea of saying goodbye or worse of Byleth slipping away in the night made her heart ache.

“Wait.” A familiar voice demanded. The flap of the tent was pulled back and Byleth slipped through, determination in her usually toneless voice.

“Byleth…” Jeralt murmured gruffly. "We'll be packing up today." He said, eyes on his sword.

“I want to stay.” Byleth said. Edelgard’s eyes widened and Jeralt looked up abruptly. 

_ She wants to stay?  _ She thought incredulously.

“You…” Shock slipped into Jeralt's voice.

Byleth’s face was set resolutely. “I want to stay with Edelgard.” She repeated.

“Byleth…” She couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice. 

Byleth gave her a small smile and turned to her father. “Please papa, when I’m with Edelgard I feel...I feel...” She put a hand on her chest, trailing off.

Jeralt gave her a hard searching look. “Are you sure about this?” He asked sternly. 

Byleth nodded. “I am...I’m sure.” She said, flatly.

Jeralt sighed deeply, setting aside his sword. “Then we’ll stay.”

“We?” She asked, surprised.

Jeralt gave her a hard, thoughtful look. “If you’ll have us, Your Highness.” He said tightly. Byleth looked at her, apprehension overtaking her blank expression.

Edelgard couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Of course. And...it’s Edelgard, there’s no need for such formality, Sir Jeralt.” 

Jeralt side-eyed her. “Edelgard it is and you can drop the sirs. Jeralt will do fine.” He said gruffly.

“Thank you papa.” Byleth turned to Edelgard, a nearly unnoticeable smile gracing her face. “I’m happy we have more time together.”

Edelgard nodded, her face red. “I am glad as well.” She said, sincerely. 

Jeralt’s gaze was caught halfway between amusement and concern. 

“Why don’t you survey the area, Byleth? It seems we’ll be staying here awhile.” 

Byleth nodded, her face fading into blankness.

They walked together out of the tent and into the city. Fhiridad was a far cry from Enbarr. It’s squat stone buildings and chaotic arrangement was a stark difference from Enbarr's elegant architecture and orderly canals.

Still, walking with Byleth was pleasant. They talked amicably as they went. Byleth letting her ramble all she knew about the history of Fhiridad.

Edelgard fell quiet as the castle approached, like the city it was a far cry from home. The luxurious ostentatious palace of Enbarr was nothing like the imposing stone fortress of Fhiridad.

“There it is.” She said solemnly. “This will be our home for now.” She said. Guilt stirred within her. She hadn’t informed Byleth of her plans nor the fact that she had no intention of behaving as Fhiridad’s puppet queen. Hubert had cautioned her against trusting Byleth and yet she wanted to tell Byleth her plans, to make her desire the world Edelgard hoped to create, to have someone truly understand.

Byleth turned to her wide-eyed. “I’ve never stayed in a place like this.” She said. Edelgard felt a slight twinge of surprise, her voice was passionless but she sensed a certain nervousness in her tone.  _ So even Byleth gets nervous.  _

“It will be different than what you’re used to.” Edelgard admitted. “But I believe you’ll adapt quicker than you think.” She reassured.

Byleth gave her a searching look. “You think so?” She asked, her voice soft.

She gave her a small smile. “I do, you’re a strong person, Byleth and…” She paused, the darkness of Enbarr and the chitter of rats flooding her mind. “You’d be surprised what a person can adapt to.” She finished, seriously.

Byleth nodded slowly. “I’m glad you and papa will be with me here.” She said, her voice expressionless.

A strange sort of joy rose within Edelgard. “I promise I will help you with anything I can.” She swore.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

The inside of the castle was as spartan as the exterior. The only decoration were vivid tapestries of Loog and Kyphon, the king represented with gold threat against blue fabrics.  _ No tapestries for Pan.  _ Those that slither had meddled in Fodlan’s history for too long and yet their machinations were rewritten as victories and revolts.  _ One day the true history shall be known. _

Edelgard followed a servant up two lengthy sets of stairs Byleth at her side until they reached a large room with a window overlooking the city.

“Your highness thought you might like your own quarters here.” The old woman said cheerfully. 

Edelgard nodded. “That was thoughtful of him.”  _ Dimitri is a kind man even with the scars of Duscur.  _ She felt another twinge of guilt. He was a kind man, and if she succeeded she would likely have to deprive him of his kingdom.

“This room was lady Patricia’s once, you know.” She said, in a voice that implied secrecy.

“Lady Patricia?” She asked as Byleth walked to the window. The old woman laughed. “Silly me, I had thought you two would’ve crossed paths during your time here. That was so long ago...” The woman said, a look of nostalgia on her face.

Edelgard flinched, she had only a few scattered memories of Fhiridad. Her uncle, a boy, and a dagger still in her belt was all that remained. 

“Lady Patricia.” She repeated. Perhaps the name was familiar to her, but her mind was marred with innumerable holes, a burnt tapestry, permanently scarred. She sighed deeply. If she had known Patricia she had been lost in the darkness of Enbarr, like so much else was.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, your highness!” The old woman said vehemently. “I just thought you’d want to know.” 

Edelgard forced a smile. “You didn’t offend me at all. I was just...lost in my memories.”

The old woman nodded and scurried out the door, leaving only herself and Byleth. 

“It’s a nice room,” Byleth noted, gesturing at the plush four-poster bed the ornately carved trunk, and the vanity against the wall. It was certainly more lushly decorated than the rest of the castle from what she’d seen.

“It is.” She agreed, joining Byleth at the window. “It has quite the view.”

They stood side by side, Edelgard savoring Byleth’s warmth and the gentle wind sweeping in from the window. 

“Lady Patricia must have been someone important.” She murmured, the name gnawing at her mind, at once achingly familiar and entirely foreign.

“I’ll have to go see where Hubert went off to.” She said at last, reluctant to leave Byleth. 

Byleth nodded, her eyes on a bird soaring against the tear blue sky. 

She walked out sparing a last glance at Byleth feeling an irrational sense of loneliness. Hopefully, he hasn’t picked a fight with Dimitri’s retainer. 

Hubert distrusted the Duscur man, claiming he was “Too devoted, too faithful, almost religious in his loyalty to his liege.” Edelgard had just barely refrained from telling him his description sounded eerily familiar. 

Wandering down the stairs she heard the clamor of steel echoing from a hallway. Curious she followed to a set of wooden doors. Pushing them open she stepped into a large stone room with a circle of sand in the middle. In the circle, a black-haired man with a sword dueled a man with tousled red hair. 

Their skill was immediately apparent, not on the level of Byleth but nevertheless admirable. On the side, a blonde woman polished a spear. 

The black-haired man feinted, pivoting to the left and swatting the red-haired man in the side. As the man gasped he swept his feet, the red-haired man collapsing to the floor as the black-haired man pointed his sword at his throat.  _ He’s experienced.  _ She thought impressed. It seemed Faerghus’ talk about the prowess of their warriors was not mere bluster.

“I yield, I yield.” The red-haired man said, good-naturedly. “Goddess Felix, you fight like I’m dating your sister.”

“I don’t have a sister.” The other man said coldly. 

The blonde woman looked up, her stern face contorting in surprise at her presence. “Oh!” She gasped. The other two turned as well. “We didn’t notice you, your highness.” She explained earnestly.

Edelgard smiled. “I was just watching your duel. I have to say I’m impressed.” She said, truthfully. Their prowess was undoubtedly and she couldn't help but think that strong allies, even temporary ones, would be a boon in Faerghus.

The black-haired man scoffed. “Hardly. Sylvain was clumsy. If this was the battlefield he’d be dead five times over.” he said cooly. 

Edelgard raised an eyebrow. There was anger there, lurking beneath the cool contempt. 

“Felix!” The blonde-haired woman rebuked. “There is no need-”

“For the truth?” Felix asked, bluntly. “He’s a liability. If you want to get him killed out there go ahead and coddle him.”

Sylvain’s easy smile twisted into a scowl. “I’ve got a duty. Miklan is my responsibility. He's my-” The blonde woman nudged him hard. “Sylvain.” She hissed. Sylvain fell silent.

“Your Highness we…” She sighed, putting a hand to her head. “We’re sorry about all this.” The woman said guiltily. “It’s not respectful-”

Felix put his sword on the rack with a loud clang. She shot him a scowl. “It was not respectful,” She continued. “To have...to have carried on as we have.”

Edelgard shook her head. “I wandered into  _ your  _ training session…” She paused. “Can I ask your name?” She inquired.

“Of course." The woman nodded. "I’m Ingrid Galatea, this is Sylvain Gautier and Felix Fraldarius.” She said quickly.

Edelgard tilted her head.  _ Gautier, the house on the border of Sreng and Fraldarius, the right hand of the king, powerful company.  _

“I am honored to meet you.” She said, giving a shallow bow. “I am Edelgard Von Hresvelg.”

Ingrid toyed with a strand of hair. “We heard about the attack on the carriages,” Edelgard noticed a shadow cross Sylvain’s face. “I am sorry your first impression of Faerghus was something so...bloody. Faerghus is a good country, truly.” 

Edelgard nodded but her thoughts turned to Enbarr and the bloody secrets it held. Could Faerghus truly be any different?

“Was there any further information found of our attackers?” She asked, lightly.

Ingrid gave Sylvain a bleak look. “Those bandits who attacked you...they were led by-”

Sylvain smiled broadly at her. “Led by my brother. Isn’t that a trick of fate, your highness?” 

“Your brother?” She asked, surprised.

Sylvain stretched, a smile still on his face. “We aren’t close.” He said airily. Ingrid put a hand on his shoulder, a sober look on her face. “Miklan was disinherited from House Gautier.” She said sadly. 

“He didn’t have a crest. I did.” Sylvain shrugged. "So it goes." Edelgard’s hands curled into fists. “I see.” She said tightly.  _ Crests. Always, always, it returns to crests. _

“I’m sorry.” She said to Sylvain. “To lose a sibling is…” She remembered Agnes, braiding her hair, sneaking her sweets, Agnes sobbing for help that would never come. Her voice died.

Sylvain looked at her, his eyes not matching his smile. “It’s not your problem, your highness. It’s house Gautier's. I’m going to take care of it.”

“Not with the way you’ve been fighting,” Felix said, his face contemptuous. “Excuse me, your highness, I’m done here.” He pushed past her, letting the door slam.

Sylvain gave a bark of bitter laughter. “He never changes.” 

Ingrid’s face was downcast. “Sylvain…” She said, letting the name hang. 

Edelgard stepped back, she felt as though she was intruding on something private. Carefully and quietly she stepped out into the hall. Felix was long gone, leaving her alone. 

She wandered toward the throne room her thoughts on Sylvain’s brother, cast out from his home for the lack of a crest. Anger simmered in her and she considered going back to the training room after she found Hubert. She felt agitated, full of untapped energy.

“Your highness.” A sweet voice greeted her from behind. Edelgard turned, to the woman behind her. She was beautiful with a very lowcut dress, shining pink hair, and a doll-like face. Edelgard frowned, something about the woman tugged at her mind. The woman approached, her gait graceful as if she was floating.

“I hope you have been adjusting well, your highness.” 

Edelgard nodded warily. “I have been.” She said tensely. Something about the woman was familiar...if she could only remember what.

The woman laughed, lightly.

“I’m so glad.” Before she could recoil the woman had her arm in a vice grip, her nails sinking past the fabric into her skin.

“Your-” Edelgard started.

The woman slapped her, and Edelgard recoiled in shock, trying to escape the woman’s grip. The woman pulled her forward with preternatural strength. Her free hand was used to take Edelgard’s face, tilting her face upward. 

_ She has eyes like a snake’s.  _ Edelgard thought wildly. The woman leaned her face closer to her’s, and Edelgard could smell something saccharine and rotten on her breath. 

“Did you think we dwelled only in the empire, Flame Emperess?” Edelgard forced herself to stay still. The woman smiled, toothily. “We're everywhere." Edelgard shivered involuntarily. "I am Cornelia and Faerghus is mine.  _ You,  _ little Emperess are mine and you  _ will  _ obey me. Unlike dear Arundel I am not a pushover.” She hissed.

“Let go of me.” Edelgard commanded. The woman laughed coldly. 

“Do you want to be punished so soon, little Emperess? I could arrange a messy accident for that worm you call a retainer or…” She giggled. “That sweet mercenary you have your eye on.” Edelgard’s blood turned to ice.  _ Byleth, Hubert. _ She couldn’t let them be hurt, not for her sake, not ever. “Is that what you want, little Emperess?” Cornelia teased.

Edelgard bowed her head, hatred burning like magma within her. “I will obey you, Lady Cornelia.”

Cornelia patted her cheek, her nails stinging. “There’s a good girl.” She said pulling her face back but keeping her grip firm. “Remember what you are darling. You are our weapon and if you must be disposed of we will simply forge another.” 

_ You won’t.  _ Edelgard vowed inwardly.  _ I will make sure that you’ll never create a monster like me again. _

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a pure Edelgard chapter, hopefully, it's still good. Next chapter expect more Dimitri, dealing with Miklan,  
> and Hubert as Byleth and Edelgard's third wheel. 
> 
> If you liked this chapter or have any suggestions/critique, let me know!


	5. The Steel Thorns

_Dimitri knocked gently on the door. “Come in.” The voice inside beckoned. He opened the door, a familiar sight waiting inside. The four-poster bed, the plush carpet, and tapestries, and his mother sitting at the window staring silently into the distance._

_“Patricia!” His voice was high and shrill. “You’re here!” He said, shocked. Patricia, glassy-eyed as she stepped into the flames flit before his eyes._

_How could she be here now?_

_“Dimitri.” She said gently, setting aside her sewing and kneeling before him. She embraced him warmly and he wiped at his eyes, his vision blurring. “Mother.” He murmured._

_Patricia smiled kindly. “No, Dimitri. I’m not your mother.”_

_Dimitri bit his lip. “I know but-” he halted as Patricia stood, a look of dark fury warping her gentle features. “You let me die, Dimitri.” She said tenderly._

_“I didn’t...I never…” he stammered trying in vain to make her understand._

_Patrica turned toward the window, outside the sky was black and red, flames dancing from below. She extended a pale hand out the window, pulling it back when it began to burn._

_Dimitri coughed. The smoke filled the room, making his eyes water._

_The fire had spread, Patricia’s hand was black and red, burned flesh and blood. Dimitri scrambled back. “Patricia.” He said faintly. The fire crept up her shawl, catching her lovely golden brown hair._

_Delicately she extended her blackened hand. “They’re waiting for you Dimitri.” She said, the flesh melting from her face like candle wax._

_He shook his head vehemently. “No. Please stop.” He begged. The smell of burnt hair making him gag. Patricia gave him a smile, her charred lips making it grotesque._

_Dimitri turned grasping at the door. Pulling back with all his strength when it refused to budge. He pulled harder as Patricia began to laugh, a quiet chime-like sound. Please open. Please open. Open. Open. OPEN._

His eyes opened to darkness. Dimitri gasped, trying to catch his breath. He clutched at his head, panting, feeling as if he had just trained for hours.

Goddess. He thought, gripping his sheets. Nightmares were common for him, dreams of Duscur, but usually, it was his father, Glen, the soldiers, his tutors, he saw. Never her. Never Patricia.

He struggled out of bed, wincing at the cold. Hands shaking, he pulled on a tunic and his boots. He’d go for a walk, try and tire himself out. _It won’t work._ The voices reminded him. _It never does._

He let the door slam behind him. He thought briefly of going to Dedue before dismissing the notion. He deserved whatever rest he could get, and Dedue worried too much about him as it was.

The castle was shrouded in darkness but Dimitri knew it well. He crept down the hall, and up a set of winding stairs, his mind awhirl with thoughts of Miklan, Edelgard, and Duscur. His thoughts never strayed far from Duscur. He reached the top of the stairs and pushed forward onto the battlements. 

A burst of cool night air greeted him and he thought of the legends he had heard so many times. The dead damned to a cold dark hell, an endless night. 

He took a shuddering breath, the cold air stinging his lungs. He walked to the edge of the parapet, from up high he could see all of Fhiridad. His city, his people, his responsibility. He let out a frustrated sigh. On one hand he must carry Faerghus and all it’s people, in the other he held the spirits of Duscur, the restless dead. His father, his knights, Glen, and all of Duscur’s people. Sometimes he felt as if he would break beneath the weight.

“Trouble sleeping?” A feminine voice asked. He spun, startled, to see Edelgard. He was struck by her beauty. She wore a white nightgown, her hair almost silver against the dark. His heart clenched at her resemblance to Patricia, her look of gentle curiosity, her calm watchful eyes matched his memory exactly. Only Edelgard's snow-pale hair truly set them apart.

“Yes.” he admitted, reluctantly. “However it’s nothing you need worry about, I can handle it.”

Edelgard moved beside him, looking down at the city. “Alone?” She asked skeptically.

Dimitri scowled. “I am the only one who...who can do what needs to be done.” He confessed.

Edelgard gave him a strange wry smile. “And what needs to be done?” She asked.

Dimitri stared at the city below him, the thatch and cobbled roofs, the allies and empty market stalls. “Why are you out here Edelgard?” He asked, instead of answering.

Edelgard frowned. “I am a restless sleeper and you didn’t answer my question.”

Dimitri remained silent. He hadn’t told Sylvain or Ingrid, not Felix or Rodrigue, not even Dedue. He liked Edelgard, he cared for her truly, but he couldn’t trust her, not yet.

Edelgard sighed deeply. “Fine, you don’t wish to answer.”

Dimitri turned to her. “Answer me this then, What do you dream of, Dimitri?” She asked calmly, her eyes met his own and he shifted his gaze.

“Duscur.” The word itself came out bitter. Edelgard looked down. “I’m sorry...I suppose I could’ve guessed that.” Her face was placid as a statue's.

“Even in my dreams, I can’t help them.” His voice came out harsh. “I see it over and over again. My father...my friends...all slaughtered…”

Edelgard’s face stirred in sympathy. “I’m sorry. To suffer such things...to be forced to relive them is torturous.” She said, a note of anger in her voice.

Dimitri leaned against the parapet. “It’s my responsibility.” He explained. 

“Responsibility?” She repeated, confused.

“These dreams, they are...a punishment.” He knew he was saying more than he should, but Edelgard knew him, had known him, before Duscur back when the world had been golden.

Edelgard looked at him searchingly. “Dimitri…”

He stopped her with a hand. “Those who lost their lives in Duscur have gone unavenged, the monsters who killed them still live.” His hands clenched into fists. 

“Those monsters…” Fury spilled into his voice. “I do not deserve peace until I’ve killed them. Only when they’re dead...when they’re all dead, will they know peace.” He explained firmly.

Edelgard’s eyes shone. “I know what it’s like to lose those you love.” She said softly. “But they would not want you to suffer for their sakes’.” She said, her voice sure.

“How would you know?” He asked, his voice harsher than he meant. Edelgard tilted her head, her face blank, pale hair spilling like moonlight over the parapet. “Edelgard…” He winced at his earlier anger. “I’m sorry.”

Edelgard smiled tautly and put a gloved hand on his arm. “We must dedicate ourselves to the living, those we can still help. The dead are beyond our reach.”

Dimitri scowled but kept his words from bursting forth. He staggered back from Edelgard’s touch. “You don’t understand. My father, my family, Patricia, I can’t just _forget_ them!” He said indignantly. 

Edelgard looked at him sternly. “I never said forget them.” She said sharply. “I’ve lost people too, Dimitri.” She said, her voice softer.

_Lost...I didn’t lose them. They were taken from me._ He thought of the flash of flames on steel and the sound an ax made when it hit bone. “Everything...everyone I cared about...all of them.” His hands curled into fists. “I listened while they begged for their lives, I smelled their flesh...” He slammed his fist against the battlement, ignoring Edelgard’s startled step back.

“Dimitri-” She began. 

He clutched at his head as the voices clamored. _Avenge me, kill them, rip them, tear, terror, bones, ash, kill, take their lives, homes, children, kill them all._ The voices insisted.

Dimitri reached forward gripping her tight by the arm. “They burned them...all in heaps, I heard them scream, the ones that didn’t know they were dead.” All around him, flames licked the sky and his back throbbed with pain.

“Dimitri.” A hand, gentle but firm pulled at his hand but he clung tight, panting with exhaustion. “You’re not in Duscur, you’re in Faerghus.” The voice was stern but not uncaring. “Breath Dimitri.” The voice commanded. 

Dimitri obeyed desperately gulping for air. “There’s no smoke here, no ash, just night air.” The voice noted. Someone knelt beside him. “This is Faerghus, you are...you are safe here,” Edelgard said, firmly.

Dimitri let his grip loose. “Edelgard.” He stammered, humiliated. 

He stared at the stones beneath him unwilling to face the contempt in her eyes. “It’s okay, Dimitri.” She said soberly. 

“What happened to you...these horrible things…” He looked up at her and saw only pity in her eyes. A part of him hated her for it. “We carry them with us, always.” She said solemnly. She was phantom pale against the night, her white gown and hair fluttering wraithlike in the wind. 

He gripped the battlements, unsure that he wouldn’t fling himself into the darkness. 

“I need to avenge them,” he said gravely. “I must.” He held out his hand, already half regretting the foolish gesture yet unable to give up the slight hope of an ally. He kept his hand outstretched. “Will you help me?” He stared into her veiled amethyst eyes, awaiting his answer.

* * *

_“Will you help me?”_ The question pierced her mind like a rapier. Dimitri’s plans for vengeance, her own plans for justice, those that slithered, her siblings, the debased nobles, raced through her mind. Perhaps they _could_ help one another. Perhaps she could help him find closure for his suffering and he could assist her in building a future free from people like them.

And yet, she knew in her heart that Dimitri’s plans would be an obstacle to her own. 

She knew who truly orchestrated Duscur and she called him ally.

_When he finds out who your allies are he will hate you. Above all others, he will hate you the most._ A voice within her sneered. _He’ll loathe me for what I’ve done and I deserve it._ She ruminated, placing a steadying hand on the battlement. 

She steeled herself. Her path was one she would walk alone, to abandon it for the sake of anyone, even a friend, was unthinkable. 

She took a breath, steeling herself. “I’m sorry Dimitri. I have my own dream. I must pursue it, no matter what it costs me.” She thought of Byleth standing before her, sword in hand. “Even if it takes forsaking my own vengeance, my morals, my life...even my heart, I will continue on.” She said. She clutched at her heart, regret was beyond her now so why did it still stir within her? 

Dimitri’s stared below them, his face shrouded. “I shouldn’t have asked that of you.” He said finally. 

“I’m sorry Dimitri.” She said truthfully. She wished she could help him. But vengeance was a distraction, friendship, love, was a distraction, all that mattered was her dream. She had to remember that.

“Your dream...what is it?” He asked, his voice solemn.

Edelgard looked at his. His lovely blue eyes were ringed with shadow, his face drawn and his jaw was tightly clenched. She wondered how far he would go for his vengeance, what he would choose to cast aside. How many he would sacrifice.

“I can’t tell you now.” She said at last. “I may one day.” 

Dimitri nodded, his face still tense. “You have to know...I am planning to investigate the incident of Duscur with all the resources at my disposal.” He swallowed hard. “And when I find who is responsible, I will make them plead for eternal damnation.” His shadowed eyes gleamed with something wild.

Arundel’s face, the face of a man she had once loved, swam before her. “And if there was a way for you to prevent something like Duscur from ever happening again…” She paused, knowing she was saying too much. “If there was a way to end the bloodshed, end the slaughter of innocents, yet to take it required you to give up your vengeance, would you do it?” She asked her grip white on the battlement. 

Dimitri looked at her sharply for a long moment. “I could not...will not live quietly while monsters roam free. Not even for peace.” 

Edelgard nodded. _He will be your enemy._ The voice once again sneered. “Vengeance is a lonely path Dimitri. A narrow path ringed by jagged blades and paved with blood, as you walk you will spill more and more.” 

She thought of Duke Aegir and Arundel, she saw herself drawing a dagger against their throats, a blow of her ax taking their heads. She wanted it, badly. But to kill them would cast her from power, allow the nobles and those that Slither to create more monsters, more like her.

Dimitri’s fists clenched. “I know...I know all this. But I have made my choice. I made it long ago.”

Edelgard sighed, deep exhaustion overcoming her. “Be careful Dimitri, your path will warp you as mine will, and I pray we never meet as monsters.”

“Monsters?” Dimitri asked, weariness clear on his face.

“It is easy to walk a path with your eyes fixed on the goal, to never notice what you’re becoming until it’s too late.” Edelgard looked down at Fhiridad, knowing one day she would find a monster in her mirror. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y’all like this chapter, it went in a different direction than I was expecting but I wanted El and Dimitri to have more interaction.
> 
> Next chapter should have some Miklan action, and more Byleth/Edelgard. sorry this chapter was kind of low on Byleth.
> 
> Please leave any suggestions/critiques if you have them.


	7. Germination

Byleth knocked gently on the door. Edelgard was an early riser, but she hadn’t exactly taken well to Byleth bursting in unannounced.

“Come in,” Edelgard called. Byleth entered with a twinge of excitement. The days all seemed different and new in Faerghus. Everything was brighter and sharper than it had been before the Sothis...before Edelgard.

Inside Edelgard ran a careful brush through her hair. Byleth tugged at her own, checking it in Edelgard's vanity. It was unruly and tangled in several places, it seemed especially neglected in comparison to Edelgard's neat locks. 

Byleth wondered if everyone took such care in their hair, she had never done more than occasionally wash her own, once in awhile her papa had cut it and that had served her fine. 

Yet as she watched Edelgard’s brush glide through her hair she wondered about her own hair, if she should care for it as Edelgard did.

“Good morning,” Edelgard said, setting aside her brush and gesturing at a teacup. “I asked Hubert to bring some for you as well,” she gestured at a silver tray with two cups and a platter of biscuits. 

Byleth nodded eagerly, she  _ had  _ been hungry.

Fiercely she grasped for the biscuits, Edelgard giving her a strange smile. “Do you like those? I brought them from Enbarr, they’re a little sweet for my taste but they’re...familiar.” She said.

“I like them!” She assured Edelgard, swallowing hard. Edelgard laughed. “I’m glad. Just don’t choke on them.” She said sternly.

_ “She’s right you know. Think of the humiliation of dying from a handful of cookies!”  _ Sothis added, stifling a yawn.

Byleth let out a breath and munched slower. Edelgard smiled but black rings circled her eyes and her face was drawn. “Are you sick?” Byleth asked, concerned.

Edelgard shook her head. “No, I just had a difficult night.”

She stared at Edelgard, her head tilted. She knew the signs of fatigue as all good mercenaries did. After all a tired man was far easier prey than a well-rested one.

“You should go back to sleep.” She suggested. She took a long sip of tea.

Edelgard sighed. “I wish I could.” She idly stirred her cup of tea, the spoon clinking against the cup. 

“But I have work to do, otherwise…” She trailed off.

“Otherwise?” Byleth asked, curiously.

Edelgard’s face turned red. “Otherwise I thought we might take a day to ourselves.”

Byleth tilted her head, baffled. Edelgard smiled, smaller this time. “I mean we would spend the day together, just the two of us.” She let the spoon slump against the cup with a clamor.

“Oh.” Byleth said understanding. “Well, we can still do that while you work, can’t we?” She asked. 

Edelgard’s smile wavered. “I would like that if you’re serious.” She said, her face still red. 

Byleth took a long sip of tea. “I like spending time with you.” She said, putting the cup down with a loud clink. Her papa had been offered a job training soldiers which had kept him occupied. She had felt unpleasant pangs of  _ something  _ when he had been too busy for her, but neither she nor Sothis could put a name to it. It was strange to have so much time to herself, to be so apart from her papa.

Byleth finished up the biscuits and tea as Edelgard fussed with her hair, carefully binding it with ribbons.

Byleth swallowed the last dregs of her tea. “Your hair looks nice today.” The sunlight filtered from the window made it gleam like fresh snow.

Edelgard smiled. “Thank you. I like to keep in good condition.” She twirled a strand around her finger. “I could help you with your’s if you like.” She said quickly. 

“I might like that.” She said honestly. Besides papa no one had ever touched her hair before.

Edelgard’s smile grew. “I’m glad. I used to help...” She trailed off, setting her brush down.

Byleth tilted her head. "Used to?" She asked curiously.

A shadow passed across her face. "It dosen't matter." She said tonelessly.

She stood, suddenly. "Shall we go?" She asked. Byleth nodded following her out the door.

Outside the castle was cool and dark despite the morning sun but Byleth didn’t mind. “My lady.” Hubert greeted, emerging from the shadows.

“Hubert.” Edelgard said, primly. 

“I must speak to you privately.” He said soberly. 

Edelgard nodded stiffly. “Byleth, do you think you can give Hubert and I a minute.”

Byleth nodded but  _ something  _ piqued in her.

_ “Aren’t you curious?”  _ Sothis asked exasperated. 

Byleth barely kept the word “yes” from burst out.  _ Papa used to handle all the business and it never bothered me then.  _ She thought, unsettled. 

Edelgard emerged a few minutes later a flustered look on her face. “Sorry about making you wait.” 

Byleth shook her head. “It’s okay.” Edelgard’s secrets shouldn’t matter to her at all and yet…

Edelgard started down the stairs. “I’d love to see the castle’s library, presuming it has one, there’s much I do not know about Faerghus.”

“Indeed. There are a number of subjects we ought to know more about.” Hubert said pointedly. 

Edelgard huffed to Byleth’s confusion. “Anyway. Is there anything you want to do, Byleth?” She inquired.

Byleth tensed. It was still strange to be asked such things, she’d never wanted anything before.

“I…” She stammered, her mind going blank. 

Edelgard gave her an understanding look. “You don’t have to answer now.” She offered. 

“How touching.” A sweet voice cooed from behind them. Byleth turned to see the holy woman, Lady Cornelia observing them with a smile on her face. 

Byleth nodded, returning her smile. Edelgard had told her how Cornelia had helped stem the plagues that had swept across Faerghus, which Byleth supposed made her a hero. Edelgard stared at the woman tensely, a frown on her face. 

Byleth felt a stir of confusion. Edelgard seemed unhappy with Cornelia, yet the woman seemed sweet and harmless. 

“I’m glad to see you’re making friends here, your highness.” Cornelia purred, her nails scraping the wall.

Edelgard nodded, shallowly. “I find it’s important to pick my friends carefully.” She said coldly. Byleth cast her a worried glance, Edelgard glanced at her and quickly looked away.

“Of course your highness.” She drawled, striding up to Edelgard without a glance at Byleth. She raised a slender hand to Edelgard’s face, Edelgard stiffened but remained still. Hubert stared daggers at her from behind them. 

“Though I should think you would be more eager for friends.” Byleth felt uneasy as Cornelia gently dragged a nail down Edelgard’s impassive face. “So many enemies await you, my dear. It would seem...imprudent to deny any offering of help.”

Edelgard took a hasty step backward, brushing against Byleth. “Thank you for the...concern.” She said tightly. “But I’m confident in my own choices.” 

“Oh, is that so?” Cornelia smiled kindly at Byleth, Byleth looked at her in return, there was something unnervingly rat like about her face, her hooded eyes and lush lips. “I just pray nothing horrible befalls them, your highness. I hate to think of you left alone and vulnerable.”

Edelgard flinched beside her. “You-” She started.

“Is that all, Lady Cornelia?” Hubert asked, his tone grim.

Cornelia laughed. “For now.” She gave a cheerful half-wave and ascended the stairs. 

“Are you friends?” Byleth inquired. Their conversation had been so strange, friendly words but hostility in their voices, smiling mouths but cold eyes. Byleth looked to Edelgard for an explanation.

Edelgard sighed, a look of exhaustion overtaking her tense form. “She is not my friend. She’s a nuisance, nothing more.” She said firmly.

Byleth nodded, but curiosity and confusion still whirred within her.

Edelgard ran a hand through her hair. “How about a sparring match, Byleth? I haven’t seen you in action since we met.” 

Byleth nodded, excitement coursing through her veins. She  _ understood  _ fighting, the clash of steel on steel a conversation that needed no translation.

“Great.” Edelgard declared, a note of cheer back in her voice. Edelgard led her through several halls before pushing open a set of lacquered doors. 

Inside was a training room, a ring in the middle. Excitement rose in her. “Axes, lances, or swords?” Byleth asked.

“Swords. I don’t want to beat you too quickly.” Edelgard boasted, twirling a sword from the rack.

Byleth grinned, taking the blunted sword next to it. 

“Let’s go!" She shouted, launching herself at Edelgard sword raised. She hurriedly deflected her blow with an ear-splitting clang, the force sending shocks up her arms. 

Edelgard sprung forward sword aloft and Byleth rolled out of the way leaving her to slice the air. Byleth returned with a jab that Edelgard barely managed to parry. 

For a second their blades meant, Edelgard smiled, fierce and wild. Byleth swept her legs, Edelgard toppling to the ground. She moved to end the fight as Edelgard scrambled to her feet, returning her blow.

Again and again, their blades clashed, her ears ringing with the sound of steel on steel. 

Edelgard fought like a woman possessed, putting a savage strength into every blow but Byleth matched her strike by strike. 

Byleth’s blade met Edelgard’s with a shower of sparks. “Are you ready to yield?” Byleth asked pressing her weight against the blade.

Edelgard scoffed, pushing back with surprising ferocity. “Never.”

Byleth disengaged abruptly and swung at an upward arc which Edelgard narrowly side-swept. She swore under her breath, sweat stung her brow and exhaustion weighed on her limbs, but she would not cease fighting until she must. Somehow she was certain that Edelgard was the same.

Byleth spun backward, Edelgard panting in front of her. 

Byleth dashed forward, her sword dragging on the ground and vaulted into the air, her sword in front of her. Edelgard staggered and then she was crashing hard against Edelgard. She toppled to the ground with a soft cry of surprise, Edelgard’s blade slipping from her hands as they sprawled together.

Byleth pushed herself up, Edelgard laying dazed beneath her. “Do you yield?” She asked, pinning her to the ground, her legs digging into Edelgard’s.

Edelgard’s violet eyes met her own and her face wore a look of fixed intensity, her gleaming white hair was spread disheveled in the dirt, her face red with exertion.  _ She’s beautiful _ . The thought came unbidden. 

“I yield.” Edelgard conceded, still half panting.

Byleth got to her feet and extended a hand to Edelgard. Edelgard looked at it a moment before firmly clasping her hand and getting to her feet.

“I’ve never seen anyone fight like you,” Edelgard noted breathlessly.

Byleth shrugged. “It's my job.” She said truthfully. In her work incompetence meant death.

Edelgard shook her head. “I’ve known many mercenaries but...I’ve never known a mercenary like you.” 

"I..." She stopped, unsure how to respond. There was a pang in her chest. She knew she was strange, different from others but to hear Edelgard say it was...painful. Why would it be painful when it never had been before? She stared down at the dirt.  _ Why should it hurt? Why didn't it matter before? Why am I wrong?  _ The thoughts tore at her mind like carrion birds.

“Byleth?” Edelgard said, confused. “Are you alright?”

_ Am I?  _ She had never had to ask that before. With Jeralt it was always  _ “Are you wounded?”  _ or  _ “Were you hit?” _

Now she had so many questions she didn’t know how to answer.

“Byleth?” Edelgard’s voice was tense.

Byleth raised her eyes to Edelgard’s, worry clear in her eyes. 

“I don’t...I don’t know.” She said at last. 

“I’m sorry,” Edelgard said quietly. “I didn’t mean to trouble you, I just wanted to say...I think you’re amazing.” 

She felt a jolt of surprise. “You think I’m amazing?” She asked aghast.

Edelgard nodded. “I do. In fact, I would like to request you tutor me in the martial arts.”

A strange warmth spread in her chest. Edelgard thought she was amazing. Edelgard, poised, sure, and beautiful thought she was amazing. 

Finally Byleth nodded numbly. “I would...I would like very much to teach you.” She said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi all, I thought it'd be good to check in on Byleth. I'm trying to show her reaction to all the new emotions/experiences she's undergoing.  
> hopefully, I succeeded. 
> 
> If y'all have any critique/comments i'd love to hear them.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been awhile since i've attempted a multi chapter story. Anyways I hope y'all enjoy this.
> 
> please leave any suggestions/critiques you have about my content


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